Franz's Great Adventure
by RachelMustoFende
Summary: Set after the war, Franz gets sent on an uber-awesome-special stop secret mission to Frelia, where shenanigans ensue. A Fire Emblem 8 Sacred Stones parody. Rated for language and frequent innuendos.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1- Let's Start of with a Humorous Flashback

Franz was on a mission. A top-secret mission. A top-secret mission assigned especially to him by General Seth. A top-secret mission assigned by General Seth that he and him alone could do! . . . Actually, that part was rather concerning. As his caring brother Forde loved to point out, there was probably nothing that Franz could achieve that a rather clever monkey couldn't accomplish in half the time. Except annoy him.

Besides the fact, his mission (the top secret one assigned by General Seth and he alone could do) was at Castle Frelia. Franz had liked Castle Frelia, or what he saw of it anyway, for the short time they had been there during the War of the Stones. Nevertheless, there was definitely something sketchy about this mission (the top-secret one assigned by okay I'll shut up now), and the donkey he was ridding wasn't even the start of it.

_"Hi, Seth! You called for me!"_

_ "That's _General_ Seth to you, cavalier."_

_ "Oooh, sorry. . . why is there a chicken on your lap?"_

_ At this point, Seth walked around his desk and put a fatherly arm around Franz' shoulder. This was a gesture he had done frequently when Franz was a new recruit, but something he insisted Franz stop asking for after a few years. The fact that he was seemingly revitalizing this tradition was a bit off-putting. Even more so than the donkey,_

_ "Do you remember the war, Franz?"_

_ "Which war, Seth?"_

_ A blank stare. "The one we were in."_

_ "Oh yes. That one. The one with all the tomato sauces."_

_ " . . . sure. And do you recall, Franz, what exact part in the war you played?"_

_ This time it was Franz giving the blank stare. "Nope."_

_ "That's because you didn't have one, Franz," Seth said, in an overly-fake comforting voice._

_ "Didn't I?"_

_ "No, because when the tactician was forced to use you in the second chapter you promptly fell off your horse."_

_ "Surely I was used more than that one . . . chapter, you called it? What's that?"_

_ "Nvm. And yes, you were used again in the next chapter for lack of a better character to use, but you fell of the horse again."_

_ "Oh."_

_ "Do you remember what level you were at the beginning of the war?"_

_ "Umm . . . . two?"_

_ "It was one."_

_ "Oh."_

_ "And what level are you now?"_

_ (__Franz checks his stats with the R1 button just to be sure) "One!"_

_ "Do you know what that means?"_

_ "That you should listen to me and let me become a wyvern knight so I'd be more motivated to succeed?"_

_ Seth shuddered at the thought of Franz with wings. "It means that you have completely and utterly failed at proving yourself as a man."_

_ "I can live with that."_

_ "Can you live without your ridiculously inflated pay check?"_

_ "Gasp! You wouldn't dare-"_

_ "I'm giving you one more chance to prove yourself. Don't screw it up, or I'll screw _you_ up!"_

_ Franz beamed. "I can live with that!"_

_ "I said nothing! Nothing! Now get your ass out that door and get on with it!"_

And thus here he was, riding a donkey for some godforsaken reason, towards Castle Frelia and his uber top secret assignment. . . the file for which he realized belatedly was still sitting on his dresser back home. Next to his pink plastic comb . . . . Sigh. He was really gonna miss that comb.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2- Getting There

Many a night did Franz lie awake, tortured with his grave mistake. He even began to wonder what the point of paying for the imperial inns along the road was, so little sleep did he get. He just couldn't stop thinking of his comb, lying forgotten and alone on his dresser. There would never be another comb like it.

As he neared his destination, the other matter began to slowly seep into the quite small pile of mushy uselessness that was his brain. He had neglected, in fact, to read the file at all before setting out, and was beginning to wonder, vaguely, what he was going to do when he reached Frelia. But the comb was still the most pressing matter.

He could write his brother and ask him to FedEx him his comb, but then he would see the file sitting on the dresser next to it. Then he could send the file as well. But then he would know that Franz was a failure. But then again, he already knew that.

As Franz sat musing his predicament in the common room of an inn just a few days out of Frelia, one of the serving girls came over to talk to him.

"You a knight of Renais?" she asked, eyeing the insignia on his cloak.

"Yes," he replied.

"What're you riding a donkey for?"

"I'm not quite sure," he said in all honesty.

She squinted her eyes and tilted her head at him. She was fairly pretty and was being quite overly-friendly, a trend that all the tavern girls seemed to be displaying towards him along the road. Franz chalked it up to very good PR. Suddenly she appeared to realize something.

"Ooh," she said, knowingly, "Incognito. I get it. Well, don't worry, you're secret's safe with me."

"Umm. . . thanks?" this girl was smiling just a bit too widely. He didn't want any girls, goddamit! Why weren't there such things as tavern _boys_?

"So," she said, plopping herself down next to him on the bench. Well, it was more like on top of him, she was so close, but anyway, "what level are you?"

"Just one," he admitted, ashamed.

"OOH, a paladin, are you?" she asked, completely misunderstanding. "Not often we get a bonafide evolved class around here. I've heard there was a shortage of knight's crests. Bulvarian monks who bless 'em with the power of the Gods had a spout of the plague, poor things"

"Knight's crest? Evolved classes?"

She picked up with drink and examined the contents. "What's a paladin gotta drink milk for?"

"It's good for your bones," he sniffed.

And thus went most of Franz's nights, until the day he finally reached his destination, Castle Frelia.

God had apparently granted Franz a big favour, because the guards at the castle were expecting him, and also didn't try to strike up a conversation about whatever it was he was doing here. He'd owe God a big one, for that. "Maybe even a whole week's worth of forgoing cake", Franz thought miserably.

Also expecting Franz's arrival was a small stack of letters. The Frelian knights showed him his room and told him to get some rest and that he could start tomorrow. Having absolutely no idea what they were talking about and hoping the letters might shed some light onto things, Franz sat down to read them. He realized that the letters had got here before he had. Curses, donkeys were slow.

_Dear Franz, _read the first one.

_Couldn't help but notice that comb and file still on dresser. Bravo for leaving behind comb, vrry brave of you. Good luck scaring off the boogeymen under your bed without it. Also good one on memorizing file so as not to have to take it with you. Wouldn't want _them_ reading it, eh? Peach tree __died, told you would not grow in temperate climate. No, did not feed it same yogurt that killed strawberry bush._

_ Forde_

So much for the FedEx plan. The next one was from Seth.

_Franz,_

_ Have run into unexpected marital problem and will not be able to come until resolved. Don't know how long will take, apparently can be a while. Also tool shed we used to spar in being replaced. All the memories. . . though new one promises to be more roomy. _

_ Looking forward to your return, General Seth._

Oh noes! Not the shed! They'd passed so many hours together there. It was really quite remarkable how they had even managed to spar in such a small space. They'd used spears and everything! Quite long ones, too.

Was Seth supposed to join him here? And . . . the Frelians were expecting him but didn't know what was in the file? Problem solving was not Franz's forte. He would figure it all out tomorrow, right now he need sleep. . . okay, bad idea. It was only 4 o'clock in the afternoon. Maybe a relaxing leisurely walk, then.

The castle had quite impressive grounds, actually. 'specially the topiary. Franz sat and watched one gardener carefully coax an exact replica of the castle out of a bush. In one corner, he found a whole series of bushes showing a scene of a rabbit putting on trousers. Another sequence showed the execution of Roger Robert, the criminal who had made stardom by successfully pinching one pie from every pie shop in Rausten and Carsino. He'd made it half way through Frelia before they'd caught him.

Eventually he stumbled upon the training grounds for the royal guard. This elite fighting force was chosen not only for their unswerving loyalty and unquestionable integrity, but also for their superior fighting talent and adequacy in the field of strategizing. He knew because he was in the Renais equivalent.

Just like at home, these training grounds mainly consisted of band stands, water cooler, a tad too many equipment sheds than was needed, and lots of open space to ride your mount around in. An exceptional amount of it here, Franz mused, gazing at the open sky, where a few Pegasus riders flew around gaily. "I mean, nothing to get in anyone's way, no maintenance necessary, no damn gofer holes to fall into. . ." actually, those holes had been handy. It was surprising how many horses seemed to trip in them and twisted their ankles, thus rendering the rider unable to continue practising. I mean, there wasn't much else for a knight to do all day. Mostly they ended up back in the barracks playing cards. It was especially odd since Franz had never seen a single gofer on the grounds in all the time he'd been there. In fact, they'd even brought in an exterminator once, but he wasn't able to track down the elusive creatures either. (Franz was a bit too dunce to realize it was his fellow knights digging the holes. This was probably fortunate, seeing as if he had realized, it was quite possible he would have gone on a hole-digging rampage, and most likely would have been caught at it too).

Franz frowned. One pegasus he was watching was displaying some extremely spontaneous behaviour. As he watched, it went in one direction for a really long time, turning suddenly 90 degrees and went another way, did a few loopdi-loops and them plummeted straight for the ground. She landed not far away from where he was standing. As he rushed over, he saw Vanessa, tangled up in her own tackle and being lain upon by her mount, roaring with laughter and having a very hard time getting up.

"OMG are you all right? What happened?" Franz asked.

Vanessa suddenly noticed he was there, and her laughter stopped abruptly. She looked around carefully, turned back to Franz, and said "Shh, the gnomes are listening." Then she burst out laughing again.

"Really!" exclaimed Franz, looking around wildly.

"I'm not sure," she replied, furrowing her brow.

After much disentangling and a refused offer to fly him back to the castle, they eventually walked back. "Where are you eating?" she asked him.

"I dunno. I don't even know why I'm here," he said, trusting that if his brother liked this girl, she must be a big enough rule breaker as to not tattle on him.

"Yeah, that happens sometimes," she said, in complete seriousness. "You should come eat with us. Court jesters are vrry amusing. Especially when-"

"OMG are you okay!" Vanessa had just walked straight into a wall.  
"Wow! That's one hell of a wall!" she said excitedly.

"Is that _really_ quite appropriate, Vanessa?" asked a cool voice from behind them.

"Eh?" Vanessa left off her intimate stroking of the stone bricks and wide-eyed wonder gazing to see Innes standing a little ways off. As she stared like a weak pegasus knight caught in the line of fire of a sniper, Innes came up to her, gently took hold of her hands and led her away. "I told you to stay in bed today, remember?" he muttered.

"See you at diner!" she shouted over her shoulder.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3- Diner Time!

Diner with the royals, as it turned out, was a very interesting affair.

Vanessa for one seemed to have sobered up a little. Actually, quite a lot. She didn't say a thing the whole time he was there, or even look anyone in the eye or follow along any conversations.

Tana, on the other hand, was acting just like Franz remembered her. That-is-to-say, she talked non stop and changed the topic every half second. Franz was honestly impressed. "You know, I've never really met anyone who could talk like you," she told her.

She blushed. "Really? Daddy says it's impolite, but it's a habit that I just can't drop."

"A habit?"

"Oh, yes, didn't you know? When I was little I was going to enter the order of the chattering nuns. The story goes that once upon a time, the lady Garowith was being forced to marry against her will. She wanted to remain pure, you see. So she prayed for salvation. In return, the gods granted her the power of endless speech. . . here's where it gets a little wonky. In one version, her new husband strangles her to death on their wedding night to shut her up, because she was annoying. In the other, he shuns her bed for the rest their lives because she was too annoying to sleep with and she died at the rip old age of 75, still chatting. Either way, she got her wish."

Franz blinked. "Wow."

Across the table, Sir Gilliam and Syrene were having another odd conversation.

"Oh, look at that one!" Gilliam was saying, "That silk must have cost her a fortune!"

"Yes, I'm sure," said Syrene, bored and annoyed. "I suppose Lady Scumbledown is lucky her father owns a monopoly on Christmas wrapping paper." She sniffed.

"Yes yes, a very lucrative business . . . Ooh, and her sister too! Look at that cut! It must be one of madam Rosem's. That lace must be imported from Xuen-Guen.

Syrene rolled her eyes. "Of course you'd know that."

When the food arrived, Syrene brightened up. "Pork tenderloin! High quality too. This much of it must have cost a fortune!"

"I'm sure," said Gilliam, unenthusiastically. "I guess the chef sure is lucky he works for a man who has a monopoly on tax money."

"A very lucrative business, you know! And these spices, too! They can't from around here. I'd say 50 miles outside of the city, at least."

He rolled his eyes. "Of course you'd know that."

Franz had a thought of his own, just then. He mentally slapped himself. Kyle was always telling him it was risky.

He asked Tana, "Why, exactly, is this particular melange of people dining with the royal family? These people aren't even advisors or anything."

"Oh," she said, interrupting her rant about cheese sizes, "it's all the people from the war. The author couldn't be bothered making up any new characters, see?"

"Nope," he said jovially.

As Tana started up about . . . corset boning this time, Franz's eyes wandered back over to Vanessa and her overly-protective boyfriend.

As Innes talked to a stereotypical attendant-type person who shall not be given a name, dioogue, or personality, Vanessa sat rather dejectedly slumped in her chair. She pushed her food around her plate unenthusiastically, eyes dim and unfocused. She moved her mouth a bit, as if talking to herself.

When the meal was over, Innes noticed that she had failed to put any of it into her mouth. Franz saw him take her chin in his hand and turn her face up towards his. For the first time that evening, she actually seemed snap out of her trance. What with all the kafuffle of everyone getting up and loudly and obnoxiously scrapping their chairs across the floor, Franz couldn't hear the conversation that followed, but I'm going to tell you anyway.

"I thought you said you were hungry today," he said, in an uncharacteristically warm and affectionate tone.

"It was meat . . ." she murmured.

"You know you need to stay strong."

"I'm not hungry any more."

"You haven't eaten anything all day."

"But I'm not hungry."

His hand was lingering on her chin and he gently brushed her cheek with his thumb. "Sleep now?" he asked, "Maybe get better tomorrow?" He half carried her out the door.

Back in his own room, Franz leafed through the rest of his pile 'o letters. Many of them seemed to contain happy sentiments from the tavern girls he'd met along the way . . . damn them! He had tried not to lead them on . . . Seth said it was cruel.

One of them however, contained a map.

_Enclosed is the as-per-requested map, _It read, _trees indicated level of forestation, mountains indicated elevation, and tildas indicating wetness. The dark areas are the areas already searched, and the slashes are areas that seem most promising. The chickens represent caves, and the narwols are villages. The male narwols are villages with inns, and the females have brothels. Best ale is found near the little starfishes, and leaves are patches that we've already found. Hope this helps._

_ Mr. Leafybuttom_

Franz wondered if the brothels would cater to gays.


	4. Chapter 4

hapter 4- Sardines

The next day Franz got up bright and early to begin his duties . . . whatever those might be. He dressed in his favourite bright green shoes and comfy slacks, just to motivate him that much more. He even added a bow tie, just to make the day just that more special. After he was done infiltrating his clothing, he went in search of food. He'd heard Frelians made the best chocolate waffles.

He didn't find anyone in the mess hall, or the dining hall either for that matter. Just as Franz was admiring how the castle had managed to have both a mess and dining hall separately, Syrene came over to harass him. "What, you're back already?" she asked, "You're a bit early for lunch, if that was what you were looking for."

"Lunch? Whatever happened to breakfast?" he retorted.

"Breakfast! Franz, it's nearly noon! Just how late do the Renais-ese get up?"

"Late," he sniffed, "We're early-to-bed, late-to-risers."

"Everyone thought you were gone already when you didn't show up for food, so we didn't bother sending anyone to wake you."

"Well, if I was still in Renais I would have been up before everyone else at this godforsaken hour." (this was not entirely true).

"On the other hand," mused Syrene, "this does give us a prime opportunity to test out some genuine brunch cuisine." her smile betrayed her eagerness.

"In Renais, we'd call it second breakfast," said Franz, eyeing the clock. He _was _hungry, and it's not as if he could work on an empty stomach anyway. And besides, Syrene probably needed something to do. The Royal Guard in Renais had once taken up Tai Chi just to stave off boredom.

An hour later, Franz and Syrene had partaken of a rather good meal consisting mainly of chocolate and salad, and Franz was feeling just about ready to get going on his project. Whatever it was. It just so happened, however, that lunch was starting just then, and seeing as Franz did not eat very much of the chocolate (bad for his teeth, you see) and salad wasn't very filling, he figured he might as well eat some more. By the time all that was over, Franz realized belatedly that he didn't have much time left before tea, and so whatever work he'd do would have to be conducted within the city.

Rather a productive day, he decided later that afternoon, sitting down to tea with Princess Tana (who had apparently invited him to eat with her). was right, the ale at the Five Broomsticks, a small little tavern near the East Gate, was certainly far superior to the ale at the Prancing Horsie, a lively karaoke bar near the barracks. He certainly hoped that verifying The Map was what he was supposed to be doing.

"Did you get a good days work done, then?" Tana asked. Franz's ability to remain sane while listening to her banter appeared to have brought him some favour.

"Yeah, the floor was covered in jelly and the donkeys kept getting in the way, but over all . . ." Tana wasn't listening. She was fishing for something in a large canvass sack. "Ah-ha!" she said triumphantly, pulling out a lacy white segment of cloth stuck in a rather stupid looking metal ring and covered in half-finished petunias, which Franz assumed she was going to embroider as they talked. As she talked.

"Petunias really are quite a difficult flower to embroider, but I'm just so sick of poppies that I simply had to try something else," she rattled.

"Ya don't say?"

"Gotta finish up this red before I start on the blue ones, I hear if mix up colours too much you can give yourself an aneurism."

"Perhaps if your brain is as feeble as a small piece of grass with cancer undergoing kemo, it might." She was not paying attention to him whatsoever. In fact, she was still searching through her bag.

"My uncle Bob died of an aneurism. He was actually older than Daddy but couldn't take the throne after grandaddy died because auntie Mary told him she would slice his naughty off with a cheese grater if he switched professions one more time."

"I think I shall go jump out the window now."

"Too bad, really, seeing as he had a part time job as a clown at the time."

"Maybe if I banged your head against that chair enough _you'll_ get an aneurism."

And thus went the entire afternoon.

Just as he was about to leave, Innes rushed into the room.

"Have you seen Vanessa? I can't find her!" he asked, agitated.

"Aw, has she gotten lost again? Did you check the lavatory? That's where she was last time, remember?" said Tana.

Innes shot her a nasty look. "Yes, I have checked the lavatory," he snarled. "And the kitchens, and the bedrooms and the gardens." and then he rushed out again.

"Sigh," went Tana. "Vanessa tends to wander off a lot. Innes is always worried she'll fall off something. He tends to conscript the entire castle to help find her. Surprising actually how long it can take 300 people to find one girl. Come on, we'd better start looking."

Franz mused. If he had wandered off, where would he go? As he pondered this question, he began to lose track of where he was going. Eventually he found himself in a tower with a long spiral stair case and many guest rooms coming off the side. Franz opened a few of the doors to check them out.

They had got to be the single best guest rooms he had ever seen. Each one had a different theme, complete with wall murals, colour-schemed bed linen and even in some instances real scenery. Just as Franz was admiring the section of gigantic sycamore in a room decorated like a forest, he heard noises coming from across the hall.

The room appeared to be dungeon-themed, although it was rather questionable whether the various instruments lying about were for torture, or something else entirely. He opened the large wardrobe.

To his disappointment, he did not find Narnia but in fact Gilliam and Vanessa. Opening and closing his mouth in shock, Franz swivelled to look at the things in the room, then back at the two caught in the closet together.

Vanessa blushed. "It's not what it looks like. Seriously," she said.

"Omg stop doing that, you look like a fish," said Gilliam.

"Innes is looking for you," he stated simply and turned to make a hurried exit.

"Well duh, of course he's looking for us," said Gilliam, before he could flee.

"He doesn't want to be 'it' again, now, does he?" said Vanessa.

Franz turned back. "What now?"

"We're playing sardines," explained Gilliam, "and I found her, see? And now you have to hide with us."

Dumbfounded, Franz obediently entered the closet. He felt like sin. He also felt cramped.

It took skill, Decided Franz some time later, to fit 5 knights, 1 princess, 2 cook hands and a gardener into one wardrobe. Fortunately one of the cook hands was complaining very loudly that somebody was stepping on his toe, so when Innes passed them by for what must have been the 7th or 8th time, he finally heard them.

"Phew!" said Vanessa, finally out. "You really suck at this game don't you?" she asked Innes.

"Nah ha ha," he said sarcastically. "I suppose you think Ephraim would be better at it?" he asked his laughing sister.

"Poo," she waved her hand in the air dissmissingly. "He's no fun. I tried to get him to play tag once but he refused."

"Yes, for the same reason he refused to eat your goddam pick-nick; it was in the middle of a battle!" said Syrene.

They all filed out. Time for diner. Innes and Vanessa lagged behind. Innes had his back turned to her. She gave him a hug from behind. "Thanks for playing," she said.

He turned his face toward her and held up what he had been looking at. "This looks fun!" he said with a boyish grin.

"Ew~!" she exclaimed. "In your wet dreams!" and she ran out.


	5. Chapter 5

a/n: If anyone doesn't get the Jaigan reference, look up "archetypes" on the Fire Emblem wiki at .com

Chapter 5- Some New Introductions

Somewhere far far away on the other side of the computer screen, as the author mused about what else she could do with the approximately 6 characters she had in Frelia, she realized that someone else had to be introduced in order for this not to get boring.

And so, back in the land of Magvel, Seth cleared up his marital issues and came trudging across the pixelated landscaped with an unexpected guest.

"Seeeth! Wait up! Not fair!" Seth pranced onward happily on his shiny blond pony, and stumbling after him on foot came Ephraim. "Why do YOU get to ride the pony? I'M king!"

"Pfffft," said Seth. "I chose Erikia's quest, what did you expect me to do? You were a loser level 16 while everyone else was already evolved. I never evolved you into a mounted unit because you were useless. "

"I'M useless! You're a JAIGAN!"

Seth sniffed. "Im an Oifey. There's a big difference."

Despite how he acted in public, Seth had grown up with the twins and was thus quite comfortable bossing Ephraim around, insulting him, and all together treating him like something dead and rotting on the bottom of his meticulously cleaned boots. He did like to call Erikia "you majesty" even in private, but he had his own ways of being personal with her.

And so the pathetic duo made their way to Frelia, arguing all the way.

Meanwhile, back at the castle, the bored royal guards Vanessa and Syrene and the clueless soldier Franz were on guard duty . . . actually, Syrene was on guard duty, Vanessa and Franz just had nothing better to do.

They were not, technically, even watching the gate. They were, in fact, lying on their backs gazing at the sky.

"That one looks like a kitten," said Franz, pointing to one the white puffy clouds floating lazily across the horizon.

"That one looks like a fried salmon," said Syrene.

"Aw, look! The kitten is casing after the fishie! Kitty must be hungry!" said the flamboyant gay.

"That one looks like a penis!" said Vanessa. "Lol."

". . ."

"Oooh look! It's catching up to the kitten!" she continued.

"NOES! Run kitty run!" cheered Franz and Syrene.

"Ah-hem." Seth cleared his throat.

"Wha!" Vanessa jumped up looking startled.

Syrene continued on in ignorance. "Look, see? Cats are fast, he's getting away."

"Seeeeeeeth!" squeed Franz. Que dramatic slow-motion glomp and sparkly rose background.

"HAHAHA level 20 paladin pwns ass with maximum speed and evades your pathetically slow glomp."

* miss *

Franz pokes his head out of the ditch in which he landed and stared with big mushy eyes at his general. Seth's heart melted at the sight of his pathetically adorable face. He would make it up to him tonight.

"Let me take you to Innes," said Vanessa

"Someone should stay here and wait for Ephraim. He should be along sooner or later," shouted Seth over his shoulder as he departed.

The three of them left. "Gak! No! The kitten ate my salmon!" continued Syrene, still unaware that her audience had abandoned her.

Some time later, Ephraim would show up tired and bedraggled after a long day's running in the hot computer-animated sun, and collapse dramatically in front of the castle, where in he would de carried up to a fluffy clean bed complete with real tomatoes and en-suite jacuzzi and not be heard of again until the author saw fit to re-introduce him.

About as this was happening, Franz was just leaving the mess hall to go to bed. The guards had a tradition of playing strip-poker every Friday night, and Franz had yet to miss a game since he arrived.

"Mwahahaha!" said Seth maniacally, walking up to him.

"Sethie! You just missed strip-poker!"

"Strip-poker?" his eyebrows raised. "Did you lose?"

Franz blushed deeply.

Seth patted him on the arm. "I'll come next time."

"So what was the evil chuckling for?"

"Aw, come on. That was better than chuckling. That was laughter at least."

"w/e"

"Anyway, I~~ just convinced Innes to have peasants' complaints days!"

* gasp * "You wouldn't dare!"

"HA ha ha. I just can't go for too long without torturing members of the royal family."

"THAT barely passed as giggling. Anyway, Innes isn't a member of the Renais royal family."

Seth sighed and shook his head. "The evils of inbreeding are vast and cruel," he said. "Anyway-" he swept Franz dramatically off one foot and held it aloft by his thigh and leaned down close to his face. "Have you been doing what I asked?"

"Ah...huh." he concluded.

"Good." Seth said darkly.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6- Peasant's Complaints Day

Peasant's Complaints Day was just one of the vast variety of "political improvements" Seth had forced Ephraim into implementing after they had come back from the War of the Stones. Apparently, running away with three of the nation's best knights and not telling anybody where you were going was perceived as "abandoning" by the people, and some changes had to be made if he wanted to win the next election.

These "improvements" included the Lax Uniform Conformity Bill, the Gay-Straight Non-Aggression Treaty, the Optional Taxation Bill, the abolition of sodomy laws, free spading for your cats and, of course, Peasant's Complaints Day.

The idea was that it would improve his PR if he showed himself every now and then to the people and used his magical powers to make all their problems go away. The problem, of course, was that if there is one thing the human race will never run out of it is complaints, and most of them are damn trivial. Watching uneducated farmers spew shit and verbal diarrhoea all over His Highness had become the sadist's favourite past time, and he had now managed to subject Innes to the ordeal as well.

And so when dawn broke next Friday, pews had been lined up against one wall of the throne room, and in them, holding popcorn, and, in the case of Vanessa, wearing 3D glasses, sat all the guards who were not on duty at that particular moment, and when it comes down to it, all the ones who were as well.

"Wow!" said Venessa. "So _this_ is 3D?" she asked her sister.

"Yes!" she answered enthusiastically. "It looks like my fist is actually coming at you when I do this!" * smack *

"Durrhurr" laughed Vanessa intelligently, several brain cells fewer than before.

The large double doors at the other end of the hall opened wide and the first pair of complainers entered.

"Hello, peasants!" greeted Innes rather unstrategically from his throne. "And what seems to be the problem today?"

The problem, it turned out, was a chicken, a garden hedge and two very grumpy old men.

"Yes, sorry, Mr, ah, Grubblypail was it?" said Innes, some 20 minutes latter, massaging his temples, "Was the animal in question yours, or his?"

"Is 'is, sir, but that egg 'e laid was on my lawn, bet my last turnip if it wasn't," he said passionately.

"'Is my goddam chicken, 'is my goddam egg!" retorted Mr. Haysoffer.

"Oh, shut up!" Innes whined, not at the peasants but at his retainers, all of whom were rolling on the floor laughing and dyeing of mirth in the corner.

"Ya know what? Here's my solution to your problem: whomsoever does not get to keep the egg laid by said chicken gets tp keep another egg from the castle kitchens. There, does that make you happy?"

"Oh no, you can't do that! It's a matter of principle! You have to decided who's egg it _really_ is." argued Seth.

"You want a matter of principle? How about the principle of not wasting my time and that of those who are still waiting to be seen with real problems to be attended to," snarled Innes, thoroughly unamused.

Vanessa gulped.

"Bwahahaha," chuckled Seth quietly as he walked to the door to fetch some more peasants, "if there's a single problem here worth attending to, I'll eat my boot."

Over the course of the day, Innes solved several more cases of proper neighbourly conduct, promised to fix a few particularly life-threatening potholes, pledged public funding to aid mail curriers injured in the line of duty, and soothed a group of hysterical aunts armed to the teeth with frying pans, hair pins and feather dusters.

It was around this point that Seth called a halt, not because Innes himself was on the brink of throwing himself out the window but because it was at this point that the laugher issuing from the corner suddenly stopped. It had not, in fact, stopped, but the guards had reached the point of hyperventilation and were no longer audible.

"Let them die," said Innes vehemently.

"Lunch first," said Vanessa matter-of-factly.

"Good point," he conceded.

"Wow!" exclaimed Franz excitedly as he ran to catch up his Seth. "We should sell tickets for back home! We'd make a killing."

"I think that would be just a tad too obvious dear," he replied, "and besides," he said smugly, "I already _do _make a killing."

"Oh, fuck off."

"Now now, that's not very nice." Seth caught him by the chin and turned his face towards his own. "You. Me. Your room in 20 minutes. Be there."

"Woot!"

-.- "We need to talk."

"Darn it."

20 minutes later, Seth entered Franz's room to find Franz snuggled deeply under the comforter wearing his favourite footie pyjamas and cradling a cup of hot chocolate in his hands as if it were the dead of winter. "I'm cold," he whimpered.

Seth got under the covers with him.

"So you've verified the locations like I asked? Really?" asked Seth skeptically.

Sweat beaded on Franz's forehead, though because of the interrogation or because of the sudden addition of even more heat to an already too-hot bed, it is as of yet unknown. "Ah . . . yup."

"Did you find any then?"

"Any what?"

"Dyeing purple aliens."

"What? No."

Seth rolled his eyes. "No, not aliens you dumbass. The plants, man, the plants!"

"The peonies are quite nice this time of year."

"You didn't do it, did you?"

"I did so! I know for a fact that everything on the map pertaining to the city and all it's taverns is completely correct." Franz sipped his drink and glared at Seth over the top of the mug.

Seth was unimpressed. "You do realize that you are a complete and utter failure and will never get anywhere in life, right?"

"Hey! That's not fair!"

"One day your age is going to catch up with you and you won't be able to charm your way through life."

"My age! I'm not even legal yet!"

At which point Seth swiped his hot chocolate and made a bee line for the door. "I'm getting you up early tomorrow and we're going to get this job over with. Good night."

And thus Franz was left to sit alone and brood over his predicament and ponder his future career options.

He realized belatedly that he already had a steady job and the only way life would be leaving him in the gutter was if Seth fired him. Then again he was unionized so he should be safe from random acts of poverty. Franz went to sleep peacefully, his dreams of sugar plums and fairies doing naughty things behind the bushes undisturbed.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7- The Quest Revealed

Franz was awoken the next day at the ludicrous time of 7:30 a.m. "Come on Franz, you know the saying!" shouted Seth quite uncharacteristically happy as he threw back the blinds and let the sun shine in.

"Arg!" grumbled Franz, squirming in his bed. "The light! It burns!"

"No no, not that one! 'When in -, do as the -ians do."

"Not as the -ians do?"

"Nah, that would be too extreme. There's no point in trying to blend in when you're doomed to failure anyway."

"Well isn't someone just a tad defeatist?"

"So says the someone who was too scared to take his beginners drivers test because there wasn't a 100% pass rate?"

"Hey! You know damn well that if anyone fails it would be me."

"True enough. Now get your bum downstairs so we can get to work."

A few minutes later, Seth contracted a bad case of Deja Vu. "Why do YOU get to ride the pony!" Franz was demanding.

"Because you don't have your drivers license!"

"I didn't need a license during the war," he pouted.

"Graduated licensing was only introduced afterwards. And besides your chronic habit on falling off lends me to believe that you shouldn't be on a horse whether you have a license or not."

"I love you too, Seth."

"Stop complaining and get on your donkey."

They trotted along for some time until it became clear that they were exiting the city. Franz leaned out sideways to look at the forest beyond the city walls, coming closer, and closer, and closer. . . "Seth, why do we need to leave civilization?" he asked. "There are mosquitoes out there and I didn't bring any bug repellent."

Seth sighed and waved a bit of paper at him without turning around. "To investigate this, you dummy."

"I thought you said that wasn't what I was supposed to be doing!" he said in a voice full of indignation.

"You were supposed to investigate the stuff on here about the forest, not the town."

"Well what are we looking for?"

"Weeds."

They rode on, until Franz's complaints of saddle sores reached epic proportions and Seth was forced to call a halt. "That'll teach me to give you a donkey," he mumbled.

"Hey Seth, do you think that I could still be a cavalier if I'm mounted on a donkey?" he asked, waving a spear around experimentally.

"If you want," he conceded, "Now stop waving that thing around before you hurt yourself."

Seth spread his saddle blanket over the ground, still cool from the morning frost. He took out a snack but before he could settle in Franz had draped himself across his knees, nestling his face into his lap. "Oh, fatigue~," me moaned.

Seth shook his head, but he was used to it by now. He opened his yogurt cup and took a bite, chewing pensively. Franz opened his mouth and Seth obediently gave him a spoonful. "Franz, I've been thinking-"

"Oh, risky."

Seth shot him a dirty look and took another bite. "-about your cover story."

"What was that anyway?"

Seth rolled his eyes as he gave the next bite to Franz. "You were supposedly surveying the peasants about general happiness and welfare."

"Why?"

"To 'gain insight into other nations well-being and compile ideas as to how to improve our own after the massive attack by the Grados' troops and the subsequent rapage'."

"Rampage?"

"No. Rapage."

"Ravage?"

"No. Rapage."

"Doesn't sound like very official terminology to me."

"I know," Seth shuttered. "I could barely bare to send it when my spellcheck was telling me it was wrong."

"Grammar Nazi. Then why didn't you re-phrase?"

"Ephraim likes to have things his way every once in a while."

"Well I don't blame him," he chuckled. "You're such a tyrant after all. Anyway what about my cover story?"

Seth meanly shoved his head off his lap and stood up. "Well we are here supposedly to help out and wrap up," he said, "But Kyle and your brother will be along sooner or later to help us with the real mission, but I never came up I reason why they should be here."

"Window cleaners?" Franz suggested.

His expression darkened. "That's what Erikia said."

"Mail men?"

"No."

"Topiary examiners?"

"NO!"

"Come to warn us the country has over-flowed with manic ducks and psychopathic swans in our absence?"

"Hmm . . ." he thought. "That might work."

Finally, around midday, they reached their destination. Which was . . . "A tree?" asked Franz.

"No, the entire area," Seth responded. "Now spread out and look around."

It didn't take long before Seth found what they were looking for. "Ah ha!" he exclaimed, "Found you!"

Franz tootled over to see. He turned the plant over in his hands, looking at it. It was green, with vaguely star-shaped leaves and nothing else very distinctive about it. " . . . maple?" he guessed.

"Nah. It's called Mary-June-Anna, and we need it if we ever want the economy of Renais to recover."

"Why? Is it valuable?"

"Yeah, it's what the Frelians use to make certain very effective medicines. They also put it in some drinks, but they're all illegal in Renais because people who drink it have a habit of losing their minds."

"Permanently!"

"No, just for the night."

"Like being drunk?"

"Sort of. Or so I've heard."

"And this is named after ladies?" Franz asked, genuinely confused.

Seth sniffed. "For the medicinal qualities. I think they may have been famous healers or something."

"So, what do we do now?"

"Now we know it's here," said Seth with a tone of finality.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8- Two More

Several more days passed as Franz and Seth traversed The Map checking out all the various locations marked with the odd star-shaped leaves. It was a Tuesday by the time they had found them all, one of which had required a two-day hike and included a rather raunchy night together in the tent. By that time The Map was covered in various crosses, new leaves, foot notes and scribbles.

Franz lay on his back, gazing at The Map one evening in Seth's room, his legs dangling childishly off the side of the bed. "Tell me more about this plant, Seth," he said.

"You know the Optional Taxation Bill?"

Franz grinned. "Yeah. Won you a lot of popularity, that one did."

"Well, since we are still responsible for the financing of the schools, hospitals, roads, bridges, police stations, fire houses, vending machines, ice cream trucks, and legal system, to put it short, we're broke."

"Aw."

"We've nationalized all natural resources already-"

"They let you do that!"

"Yes, because as I was about to say, we don't actually have any."

"I see."

"So we're stealing some."

"The Mary-June-Anna?"

"Yup. It has an international market, so it should prove profitable."

"So when're we gonna nitch it?"

"Soon," he replied, "Just as soon as the others get here."

The others, as it turned out, were not very far away. "Innes!" Vanessa called out as she walked into his room, waving some paper in one hand. "Telegram!"

Innes, whose needed an early bed time to facilitate his ridiculously early wake-up time, yawned at sat up, stretching. "Telegram? What's that?"

"Not sure," Vanessa admitted, "Looks like some kind of instant-letter thingie." She sat down on the edge of the bed and began to read.

_ A99T**7H891, 3:00 pm, Tuesday November 10. Mark Malkuth, proprietor Green Lizards Inn. Message reads: Thank you for topiary stop Ambassadors en route to capital stop requested telegram stop forgot to send letter before hand stop e.t.a. Friday stop please pass along to general Seth, royal guards, Renais, stop._

Innnes stuck his head over Vanessa's shoulder to look at the strange piece of paper for himself. "What ambassadors?" he inquired, leaning closer and wrapping one arm around Vanessa's waist in the process. Suddenly Vanessa felt his whole body go ridged and his grip around her tighten. "Oh no . . ." he mumbled, eyes wide and his expression fixed in horror. "Not _him_."

"Who?" asked Vanessa, but then her eyes lighted on the two names at the bottom of the page. "Oh, _him_."

"I am not letting him near you!" Innes stormed. "Last time you saw him, you nearly waltzed off to live with him in Renais."

"I had no such intention. Remember what I said about the spatula?"

"Yes," he said darkly, "I remember _his _spatula all right."

Vanessa's face lite up and her eyes crinkled in amusement. "Teehee."

"That was not funny! He ran around after you with a spatula for two whole weeks!"

"I know," she said, then burst out laughing.

"Wtf are they doing here, anyway?" he quizzed.

"I stopped by and asked Ephraim the same thing on the way here," she giggled, "and he said _landscaping_. He's finally starting to wake up but, judging by his completely incoherent reply, I don't think he's really fully conscious. Running across the continent took a lot out of him I guess."

Innes groaned and hugged her close, breathing in the scent of her . . . "Jeez, Vanessa? Can't you stay sober for like, 10 seconds?"

She shrugged.

"Seriously, while he's around I am not letting you out of my sight ever, never never never never never."

She gave him a pat on the head. "If it makes you feel better. . . . you can let go of me now. He's not here yet."

"It's nearly Friday. He could arrive at any minute." He laid back down and gave every impression that me meant to go to sleep like that.

"Noes! It's only 9 o'clock, I don't want to go to bed yet!" she cried, waving her arms and legs frantically in a pitiful attempt to get away.

She was freed early the next morning when her sister burst into the room shouting that they were having imported bacon from Rausten for breakfast.

There was not, as it turned out, any reason for Innes' midnight cuddling, as Forde and Kyle, although leaving the inn early that morning, had stopped at midday and had yet, at 3 o'clock in the afternoon, to resume their journey.

"A bit more to the left, there, no back, there."

"Over here?"

"No, not like that! That's too hard!"

"Well if you want me to do it properly-"

"Look, just do this."

"I can't do that! It's too big!"

A small spat ensued, as Forde attempted to wrestle his paintbrush out of the vice-like grip of his best friend. "I'm the artist here! Let me paint the way I want to!"

"You're making that mountain look like a pile of shit!"

After several minutes of rolling around on the ground, Kyle managed to gain the upper hand. "That's not fair!" Forde grunted, attempting to roll Kylie off of him, "Our units' stats are supposed to be equal!"

"My strength is slightly higher," he retorted.

"Poo!" cried Forde, "my skill and speed are much better."

"Speed? Ha! How can someone who falls asleep in his saddle have any speed at all?"

"Well it's better than falling _out_ of the saddle. . . like Franz."

"True enough," said Kyle, letting him up.

Forde turned his attention to his landscape painting, which had fallen over in the scuffle. He sighed, picking it up. "We'd better get a move on."

In the mean time, back at the castle, Vanessa was having some trouble eating her afternoon snack of apple slices and crackers, because of the fact that her right arm was tied tightly to Innes' left. After awhile, she gave up trying to eat it and instead amused herself in a different way.

". . . Vanessa, what are you doing?"

"Look Innes, it's a doggie! Woof woof!"

"Vanessa that is not a dog, it is two crackers being held between your fore finger and thumb."

Vanessa continued to wave the pretend dog in front of the prince's face. Then he ate it, pausing for a second to lick her fingers clean.

". . . now my hand is covered in slobber."

"Vanessa, I need to go meet Ephraim in my office soon, will you be all right by yourself?"

"I'm not a child, dear."

"Yes I know that, but you act like one."

"Because if I was a child, that would make you a pedo-"

"Vanessa!"

"Yeah yeah, no shenanigans, I promise."

". . . Be back before dark."

"Yay!" shouted Vanessa as Innes grudgingly untied her, "Freedom!" and Vanessa ran off happily like a small child whose time out had just ended.

Quickly, she scampered down the steps and out into the yard, where after a minute or two of dashing about she found Franz snoozing under a tree.

"Wake up, lazy bones!" she shouted in his ear, "Don't you know we're at war here!"

"Zzz. . . shnah? Holy- Umm, no, no, General I swear, this is a tactic to lore enemies closer while I take them unawares, my brother taught it to me-"

"No time for idle chit-chat!" she continued on boisterously, "there's something so private being discussed in the king's office right now that even the looming threat of your brother with spatulas couldn't convince Innes to bring me in with him! There's a hidden peep hole behind the tapestry of Sir Sarendar the Scared, let's gooooes!"

In the highest room of the tallest tower, Ephraim the damsel in distress was waiting for Prince Charming to come rescue him from the dragon.

Well, maybe in his fantasies.

When Innes finally entered the chamber, he was not looking in the mood to rescue anyone. "Rawr!" he complained, "I hate this tower! It just took me seven whole turns to get up here!"

"Turns?"

"Nvm. Why are you here, Ephraim?"

"Sight seeing."

"You hate Frelia. Now tell me the truth."

"To prove that I'm better than you at-"

"Oh goddamit what do you want to feel superior in this time? You've already cheated your way to winning checkers, go fish, hide-and-go-seek, double Dutch, concentration . . . what is it this time! Paddy-Cake!"

"I didn't need to cheat to beat you at hide-and-go-seek."

"Piss off."

"Anyway, my challenge to you this time is-, drum roll please, cheese rolling!"

"Pfft that is so unfair! It's a Renais sport!"

"No it isn't" Cheese rolling, the dangerous and rather amusing sport that consisted of chasing a wheel of cheese down a very steep hill and attempting not to fall and break all the bones in your body in the process originated, in fact, in Carcino.

"Cheese rolling is a winter sport, it won't work in this weather."

"No it isn't. Stop coming up with excuses, Seth assured me that we have ourselves an optimal opportunity to try out some cheese rolling."

Innes narrowed his eyes. "_Him._"

"Hello all," announced Tana as she walked in, "You know I was just outside and I could have sworn I saw two guys acting out a scene from Starcrossed Lovers behind a shed. That really reminds me of auntie Christie, because she was really the only person I met who could take that movie seriously, I mean they couldn't have been thinking at all when they-"

"_Damn hiiiim!" _moaned Innes, languishing pathetically on the couch. "Barely here at all and he already got me to hang new curtains in my room and sign over my rights to monopolize pigeon breeding and add 3 more sheds to the training yard," he sniffed loudly. "It's not fair."

"He made him have a peasant's complaints day," noted Tana, who had settled herself on Ephraim's lap.

"BWAHAHAHAHA," roared Ephraim, "Now you know my pain~!"

On the other side of the tapestry of a peevish looking knight holding one white flag and one flag with a chicken insignia, Vanessa was nearly pissing herself laughing.

"Cheese rolling," loled Franz, that's a good one.

"I was wondering what possessed him to put purple curtains up," hissed Vanessa. "Silly silly Innes, he's far too persuadable."

After a while Innes got tired of being harassed and got up to leave. "Better go find Vanessa," he said worriedly, looking at the clock, "your 'ambassadors' are bound to turn up soon."

"Fuck," muttered Vanessa, running off.


End file.
